Wait- When am I?
by Phoenixfire123
Summary: Marron knew one thing. She would rather be in a timeline with both of her best friends and family in existence- and not having half of said family be on a bored rampage that led to the destruction of the world, thank you very much. She needs to find a way home, fast.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Whew, here I am with another story. And not one I expected to post compared to the couple that have been on the back of my mind for a while. And a chaptered one too, no less.

The idea came to me seeing scenarios where Goten, Gohan, etc. will get stuck in the Future timeline but not much on Marron. Considering she will have the most personal ties (besides possibly Krillin) on the villain side of things, I thought the concept will be fun to play with as she struggles with the family she loves being nonexistent or just out being evil apocalyptic teenagers.

Time travel is weird… this is post-Super for Marron but this Trunks hasn't time-traveled once at this point.

**Warnings**: Will be mentions of violence and also more language than I first thought planning the first parts. T for safety.

p.s. Future Trunks still has purple hair, not because I'm particularly bothered by an irrelevant small change, but mainly so Marron won't clue in as quickly to the sudden difference.

* * *

Marron's head throbbed. Which, all things considered, wasn't surprising nor a good sign. Her hair was probably singed, and her arms felt like they met a flamethrower. Her immediate thoughts went to images of an explosion. She was going to murder those two once she woke up. Gravel pricked into her arms, weird. She recalled landing on grass. Unless, in her poor luck and choice in friends, she sunk into the earth forming a small crater. She mumbled incoherent complaints under her breath. When her tongue touched the back of her teeth, she could not taste blood, yay for a plus.

Marron felt a hand slap her face softly. First her forehead, where it stayed there for a second as if testing her temperature, then her cheek. She scrunched her brows together and tried to bat it away. Her arm would not move.

"…y… Hey, are you… right? Pl… b… al'ight? Please be all right. It'll kill me to find another dead body right now."

It took a few seconds for the words to register in her ears. The easier bit was the voice. Her head throbbed. Dead bodies? Trunks, what the hell did you do? She opened her eyes, the blurry form of her friend taking a couple seconds to focus. Trunks had a face mixed with anxiety and exasperation. That was what she expected from him, but the worry in this case dominated. That surprised her. She was betting on the older teen to somehow blame it on her in his mix of concerns.

She sat up quickly, and the thirteen-year-old regretted it. Trunks placed a hand on her back and steadied her. She nodded in thanks, with her throat and mouth not ready to cooperate. Marron took a moment for her vision to clear once more before she looked around. This was not the Satan City Park she remembered being in before she passed out. This place was filthy. Ruined buildings and collapsed stone surrounded the dead grass of the park. And was Trunks wearing different clothes?

"Trunks, what did you do?" The question was supposed to be a non-accusatory one. However, the blonde was used to pining the blame on him or Goten, since most of her plans didn't end up with a mess of injuries. The words were not meant to be harsh. She would probably laugh about it – as long as she was the only one hurt – once she found out what was going on.

(If Pan also got caught in the blast; Gohan will probably murder his brother and friend, or else go into extreme lecture mode. She didn't know which would be worse.)

Trunks failed to give the response she expected. He wrinkled his nose the way he did every time he didn't know what was going on when he felt he should. Normal. His shoulders slumped at the accusation though, and he balled his hands into fists. "How do you know my name?"

Marron gaped at him. Finally finding energy returning to her limbs, she raised her arms and placed them on his shoulders. "Not funny, mister. It's me, Marron. Your friend. One of the ones that you'll put in danger with your evil, crazy plans. No matter how many times I advise you and Goten to stop." She spoke slowly, like speaking to a toddler, when worry started to itch the back of her mind. Her grip on his shoulders tightened.

"Also, where's Pan? Gohan and Videl will murder you. You know she was right behind me, right?"

Trunks appeared like he was hit with a sledgehammer at the mention of Gohan, but besides that showed no sign of acknowledgement.

"It's just me here. I don't know who you are talking about."

"Wait. You don't?" Her head, which she had ignored its killer throbs since she sat up, ached at the implications. "You don't know Goten, or Pan?" The teen shook his head.

Okay, this was fine. This was not fine. Trunks will pretend to ignore Pan sometimes to get a rise out of the quarter-Saiyan when she trailed after him and Goten too much. But there was no way this idiot will forget his best friend. The two that will come up with a plan for (world domination) any scenario they came come up with. The pair that would blackmail their fathers, to this day she was clueless on how, to train with them and their intense sparring matches, and the two that were so accustomed to their fusion that she could swear they were telepathic at this point.

That was not possible.

Marron squeezed her eyes shut. "Ah, hell. We all messed up badly then."

She needed to get home.

Trunks stood up and decided to ignore her delusions, she guessed. He held out his hand and she shakily got to her feet. "We should get going. I know a safe place we could go."

The young teenager did not like how he said safe. Like the word was such a rarity. She squinted her eyes at him. Besides wearing different clothes, that was not the only thing wrong with them. Her Trunks was not as picky on his clothes as his sister, but he always wore top brands and had no problem showing he was a rich brat. Here, these clothes were much too worn and shabby. She glanced at their surroundings again. It was definitely more than the park that was destroyed.

"Where are we?" she asked.

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. A little suspicious of her as well, and probably thinking she was the crazy one. That was if she could read his expressions as well as she thought she could. "The ruins of Orange Star City. Why?"

That tone was suspicious. She pressed her palm to her forehead. She could guess what was going on. Now, if only denial would move aside so she could start to figure out a way home. "No reason. My brain must be scrambled." Her tone dripped with her mother's chilly sarcasm. The wariness multiplied immediately in Trunks.

She followed him to the street, rubbing her hands down her skirt. Yes, denial was a harsh beauty.

X_X

Trunks had no idea what to expect when they detected the strange energy signal from one of the desolated cities. From what his mom said, it was energy related to the type she read off when working on the time machine. He went to check it out regardless of being told off in doing so. It could be dangerous. His whole life was dangerous. Nothing new.

When he landed at the place the disturbance was reported – with his eyes out for any android trouble –he did not foresee seeing a young girl, hardly in her teens, bruised up. Her features were similar to Eighteen's, which caused his paranoia to rachet up; however, her blonde hair was longer, and her face and eyes were both softer than the cold stare of death he was used to.

He wished it could be an easy encounter, but she went on to knowing who he was (though a lot of people knew him as he fully took on Gohan's place of trying to save everyone on the planet), and the list extending to nonexistent people on top of his old master.

To say the least, he was weirded out. Trunks gave her a sidelong glance when they reached the road and pulled out a capsule. He tossed it to the ground and a battered motorized scooter appeared. He would say that it was damaged when he was out being a hero. That would be a lie. He was grateful for the mundanity of crashing it trying to joyride once before he learned to fly.

Flying, an awkward thought if he had to carry someone. He would sometimes carry people to the few working hospitals or emergency stations set up. That was usually when they were unconscious and he was heart attack away that they might die on the way there. Otherwise he went this route even if it would be slower.

She pinched her lips together and raised a brow at him. Marron appeared ready to chuckle at him if the situation and her injuries did not warrant a serious response. "You know I can fly, right?"

"No," he shot back. The words were bitter on his tongue, and she reared back for a moment. He was tired of the blonde assuming he knew her. She rubbed her temple, wiping a bit of blood away from a scratch above her eye.

"Okay. Okay. Well, I can." She sounded defeated and floated a couple feet off the ground. "Everyone I know knows how to fly. It would be a waste if I didn't learn the basics."

He bit his lip in doubt. "What about your injuries?" Trunks was in no place to judge, being a culprit himself, but she seemed undeterred by the abuse that her body suffered before arriving to this point.

"I can handle it, Trunks." She flew closer and narrowed her eyes at him, once again uncomfortably reminding him of Eighteen, before she took off into the sky. Slow compared to what he was used to, but faster than his scooter. He sighed and capsulated the vehicle before following after her.

"Marron, right? How did you end up in Orange Star City?" And how the hell do you know who I am? How familiar she was around him was unsettling.

She was quiet for several seconds. Once reassured she won't fall from the sky from exhaustion, Trunks took the time to check the surroundings. Everything was normal. No active fires or smoke indicating some disaster, and the world was eerie with how quiet it was. All and all, the best he could ask for.

"So weird it being called that." She murmured to herself. "Yes, that's my name." She said in a sly voice. That persona dropped in a second as she sped up. An alert went off in his brain. Out speeding was a tactic he and Gohan used when either of them broached a subject they didn't want to talk about. On habit, he matched her pace.

"There was an explosion as an experiment yo- we were running went wrong. It blew up in my face as I pushed, uh, one of my friends away and the next thing I know I'm in a desolate version of my home." He tugged on the cuff of his sleeves, flying away from her to take the lead. Trunks wished for a stronger clue on who this strange girl was. On the opposite hand, he was grateful she adjusted her wording so she won't call him out for being there- when he wasn't.

"Uh… that's helpful." No, no it was not. Having no wish to be rude or close her down before he could get answers, he refrained from a sharper retort. Her gaze went blank, and Trunks thought that she would pass out. He flew closer to grab her when she snapped out of it.

"You're weird." She shook her head, and in his clear view still denying that she probably should have help as she was not in the condition for this. A sad smile crossed her face as her ki lowered, and she started to descend. "I can't blame you for that though." That's when she passed out.

Just perfect.

X_X

Marron opened her eyes to see the world speed past at a rate faster than when she closed them. The obvious change was the strong arms around her, and the blonde narrowed her eyes against the wind at the culprit.

"Thanks, I suppose." She probably shouldn't have insisted on flying, yet she was eager to get to Bulma and have the scientist help find out what happened to her. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Trunks or Goten would randomly grab her from the air if either felt she was going too slow when they flew off somewhere. Pan and Bulla were faster than her at this point. Stupid Saiyans and their durability.

Trunks grunted and didn't slow his pace. The blonde turned pink, unused to essentially a stranger falling into her friends' habits. A bright glow pierced her vision in the dusk sky, and she noted that his hair matched hers. She reached out a hand, and ignoring the propriety of acknowledging this Trunks was a stranger, tugged on the blonde locks. "You didn't have to go Super. I'm not dying, you know."

"You know about Super Saiyans?" He closed his eyes without braking pace. "Of' course you do."

She snorted. "Yeah, you could do it since-" she cut herself off with his glare. Right, likely not a happy memory for him. It was hard censoring herself to one of her closest friends. They were the ones she didn't have to worry about being the proper good girl around. Not that many people still bought that from her.

Marron figured that it was pointless to try to get her friend with a sudden hero-complex to slow down. She decided to enjoy the ride and instead focused on the sky. The ground below was not an option. That would be destruction caused too close to home. The sky: that wouldn't be too different from what she was used to.

Her mind drifted away to thinking about what the fallout back home was like. Mom would lecture the boys by kicking them across the park and yelling at them. Their moms would be the same. Pan would be freaking out and listing worst- and best-case scenarios as she blamed herself for Marron taking the blast. She could imagine Goku being roped in to try to pinpoint her ki to bring her home. Dad, Gohan, and Videl will get the police involved in searching for her.

Trunks and Goten will be simultaneously ranting at each other and going through, not just listing, but acting out the worst- and best-case scenarios.

She wondered if anyone would come up with what actually happened.

The sky became blurry above her, and this time it wasn't from the dizziness returning. She wiped her eyes and mumbled angrily about crazy families.

"What's that?"

She cleared her eyes enough to look at Trunks and shrugged. "Nothing that can be helped currently," she replied drily. The young teen picked up on her mom's humor and dad's pessimism when stressed. The weird mix caused the lavender-haired teen a blanket of confusion to mask over his features. She hummed, unconcerned. Her sore muscles and the lurking presence that she was out of her time made her care less and less about the impression she was making.

It was not long until they landed outside a pathetic-looking Capsule Corp. Marron winced and leaned against Trunks once he placed her down. He seemed careful with her and eager to get her treated but took a moment to observe her reaction to her arrival. After the initial sad shock, Marron schooled her features to one that revealed nothing. That seemed to unnerve him (it was akin to her mother's, to be fair), and with another pause he led her inside.

Marron tried her hardest to let the fact that it felt so empty slide.

The little air conditioning that was in the building contrasted with her warm skin, and although she just woke up from passing out less than a half hour before this was the first she really felt it. 'I wish I had a senzu. Or learn to take explosions to the face better.' Her skin prickled, and she rubbed her cheeks the same time she heard Trunks call down the hall.

"Mom! I brought home a girl."

"Is that a euphemism for getting a girlfriend?" Bulma's voice drifted back. Marron stuffed her hand in her mouth to stifle her giggles as the older teen besides her blushed.

"No. She was unconscious where we picked up that disturbance, and she seems to know me… somehow. So, I brought her back." Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Marron took pause to lean against the wall. Her eyes closed before she focused on the flickering light. Okay, maybe not the best idea. She squeezed her eyes back shut.

Bulma came around the corner and wiped grease off on her jacket. A quick once over on her new guest she tutted and turned to her son. "She may not be your girlfriend, but I still taught you to be a gentleman. Help her to the medbay, and I'll get you snacks."

Marron waved her hand to say she was fine. No words came out and she let Trunks lead her away. She noted with muted curiosity that it was the opposite direction than where it was in her time. Underground too, if she had her disoriented head on right. A precaution caused by her family. That's right. She groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"It's okay, you can rest once we catalogue your injuries."

"No. I'm not supposed to be here." She was being sat down on a medical table. "This isn't my right… oh Dende." She took the glass of water offered to her and splashed some on her face before downing a couple gulps.

Trunks blinked in confusion, while Bulma leaned back a bit. Her blue eyes were unreadable. "How do you know that name?"

The water lightened her dry tongue and she spoke up again. "That's right, he was never… huh. Guess I can't work my way around to it now." She shrugged and took a sip. "I'm from another timeline where this idiot." She jutted her finger at Trunks. "Succeeded in – well – not having the future end up like this." It was hard to say kill her mother and uncle (which was a lie), despite not being the same people here. Plus, she had no idea how to bring up Cell. Avoiding the topic then.

"What, really?!" Trunks perked up immediately. "That means the androids are gone?" Marron wanted to punch him. She probably would have if she was not exhausted. Her mother could still kick his ass if she wanted. She licked her lips.

"Sure."

"And you must know the other me then?" The lavender-haired boy seemed perplexed over the whole concept. Marron smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I know your whole family." Your not-dead father, your little sister, the whole Son family who counted with how often they raided Capsule Corp for food or training. She may be bitter about this version of her friend relishing in the thought of her dead family, but the blonde would refrain from that information right now.

Bulma, who turned contemplative throughout the exchange, tilted her head to the side. "Are you Krillin's kid?" Marron coughed and glanced away, nodding. "The whole nose thing gave it away." Her hand twitched. "I'm happy to hear that he found someone. He was the most disheartened after Goku died. Besides Vegeta but I think that was mainly because he never got to fight him again." The older woman sighed.

"Any chance I would have met her?"

Wringing her hands in front of her, Marron's thoughts whirred into white noise without coming up with a suitable response. She huffed and crossed her arms. "No."

She was saved, thankfully, from providing further answers. Bulma started her examination, and Trunks, who clearly was eager to find out about a world-that-didn't-suck, abstained from bursting his gut with questions. He disappeared when Bulma asked him to go fetch supplies.

Marron focused on the genius scientist while she worked, holding up her injured arms obediently. She knew the woman was getting on in years, close to middle-age territory, but at home the rich and confident diva hardly showed it. Here, she could see creases of worry giving away to wrinkles on the mother's face. It was disconcerting. Possibly more so than her friend staring at her but not recognizing her. She lifted her chin as Bulma smiled, "A happier future, huh?"

The results came back with second-degree burns on her arms, mild lacerations on her torso (she did her best to protect her chest when it happened), and head trauma that nonetheless ruled out as a concussion. "I believe the slight fever and dizziness is from whatever trip you took unprotected into this timeline." Bulma concluded. "I'll keep an eye on you just in case." Marron dipped her head in thanks.

Trunks returned halfway through her checkup, hanging back, still comprehending the situation. 'I don't blame him. He was just told that the mission he hasn't even partaken in yet is successful by a girl who appears like a person he wants destroyed.' Marron smirked and rubbed her freshly bandaged arms.

"I'll like you to tell me what you remember before arriving here. I haven't finished the time machine – yet – but a synopsis will help to find out the best way to get you home."

"I don't think that will work. As far as I can tell, this is the same time as I originally left, except in the original timeline. I don't really need to go back in time so much as get back from where I'm from." Marron thought out loud. "I'm not throwing blame, but once I return, I'm blaming you guys." She giggled at their expressions. "You were working on a new invention Bulma, don't know what it was, but Trunks decided it was a good idea to test it out. I believe it was something to detect new types of energy readings, I dunno." She leaned back, and her dark eyes flickered to the ceiling.

"In a string of events, a scuffle broke out and a stray ball of ki hit the core of the device. It exploded in a – red? – light and I received the brunt of the blast after pushing a friend out of the way."

"I see," Bulma breathed out slowly and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Can you guess if anyone you were with got sent here with you?"

Crap, Marron had not thought of that. That would be terrific. She was not the best at sensing ki, but she could typically pick out her friends easily. There were no signs of Goten, Pan, or another Trunks in her range. Bulla had run off shortly before to pick up ice cream. From her awareness, neither her or Uub had come back by the time the blast went off. She shook her head.

"Any clue what we should look out for if anyone else turns up?"

"Saiyans." Marron blurted without thought. She received a quizzical stare from the two in the room. She shrugged. "They're multiplying." She wiggled her eyebrows in an overexaggerated motion. Trunks heaved a dramatic sigh; the first real direct comparison she could make with the friend she knew.

"Huh," Bulma turned pensive. The blonde guessed she was wondering if any of those were from her. Marron stifled her giggles as she imagined her small half-Saiyan friend beating up her brother with ice cream once she found out. She forced her gaze away, finding that outward amusement will come off as insensitive to the widow. "This may be a bad idea with your injuries, and I'll keep the amount small, but I'm going to take a blood sample in case there is any kind of radiation or signs from the accident that will give a hint of the best way to get you home."

Marron nodded in consent. Eyes to the far side of the room, at the dingy wall so unused to the Capsule Corp rooms she knew, she thought. 'I _will_ get home… right?'

X_X

The young teen dozed off in a spare cot when she heard someone next to her. She cracked her eye open to see Trunks there, shifting awkwardly foot to foot. "What'cha want, creeper?" She teased. The copy of her friend turned red. She sighed. If this was her Trunks, he would have thrown a pillow at her.

"Um… it's really successful, my trip to the past?"

He sounded so unsure. Marron pitied him and was too tired to get angry at the implications that he wanted part of her family dead. She rolled to her side and winced at the pressure put on her arm. "Yup."

"Is there anything to tell me to ensure that it goes well?" The boy sounded desperate. Her foggy head was not in a position to figure out what would be good to tell him or not.

She adjusted her weight on her back and pondered for a second. "Yeah, sure. When you go back to first tell them and give Uncle Goku his not-dead heart medicine, go ahead and don't wait for him and murder Frieza." She yawned and started to feel her consciousness fade. "Dad said it was epic, and I'll take his word to be fact."

Marron did not hear his response when she fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N**: This was the most cohesive start to this fic as I could think of. Eh. Setting up accidental time-travel always seems cliché to me. This story isn't about the catalyst though, so I hope you all forgive the less than stellar opener.

Probably should have mentioned this up top, because people will probably be wondering, but there is no romance in this fic. I ship Marron with Trunks or Goten, but I ship Future Trunks with Mai. So yeah. A lot of awkwardness for the two teens, but not that kind of awkwardness.

I have most of the story outlined, yet it's real sketchy. May turn out longer, may turn out shorter. I hate to make my update schedule like this, especially doing well on my last chaptered stories, but updates will be on a when-completed basis that is as amorphous to me as it is to you.

Give me your energy! Or, reviews rather. Any feedback will be greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Update time! This would have been up over a week ago but I became caught up with life (and life caught up with me).

One thing to note, since there are a number of recollections and memories in this chapter, are the ages. I wish I had a better clue, but if Super actually bothered to age up the kids, I think Pan and Bulla especially would be older than they would be depicted in the end of Z or GT. I'm probably wrong, but for the purposes of this fic the age and age differences are:

Trunks: 16/17 (so future Trunks is less than a year away from his trip to the past)  
Goten: 15  
Marron: 13  
Pan: 6/7  
Bulla: 5

If I mess that up at any point let me know. Enjoy the chapter! And thank you to everyone who have shown support and given feedback.

* * *

Her injuries ached as she started to come into consciousness. It was disorienting. 'What happened?' Flashes of destroyed cities plagued the back of her eyelids before she opened them. Was it a nightmare? No, her unhelpful memory deduced. Nightmares faded shortly after she woke up, but the images and memories of her last waking hours became clearer as she sat there. Her limbs were stiff, so the pain was not part of a forgotten dream either.

When Marron mustered the energy to sit up, she found that almost a whole day had passed. She rubbed her head and took in her surroundings. After an uncomfortable drop in her stomach, she relented that her displacement was not a bad dream and she was stuck in a world which her family caused the destruction of. Her mother was not there to murder someone (in good faith) for hurting her daughter, with Krillin only half-heartedly telling her to cool her edge a bit. Concentrating, she could almost imagine them as they fretted over her. Trunks and Goten would be eavesdropping at the door until they were allowed to come in. The girls will most likely be allowed in and with complete disregard be tattle-tales on how the guys messed up. If she had stayed in her time; she would bet the outcome would not be too far off.

That was not her current reality.

She appreciated the moment's peace to acclimate to her situation. Extra stimuli this soon to waking would overwhelm her. The ceiling and walls around her were not the comfortable peach of her room. She gingerly tested her limbs while on the edge of the bed. 'A bad dream would be too convenient, wouldn't it?'

She pondered how everybody was taking her disappearance so far. Her musings prior were a close bet. That was if time traveled at the same rate to the time she returned. Since, from what she could gather, this was the same date as when she left. She wrung her hands and narrowed her eyes. Out of all her friends' families, her parents were the most protective ones, proportionally speaking. Not helped that most of her friends had the heightened abilities of Saiyans. Plus, her dad was a huge worrywart. She prayed (to a nonexistent guardian) that they weren't too worried or out for blood.

Bulma came in to check on her when she was about to force her feet to stand below her. The blonde's head was not pounding as much as yesterday, but overall her body screamed 'sore.' She smiled at the older woman, curious if the sixth sense of her family being in or causing trouble was the same in this time. Marron wouldn't doubt it, but then again, as she stared at the nearby clock, it did take her a long time to sit up and collect her bearings.

"How are you feeling?" Bulma's voice contained a note of anxiety. The teen bowed her head, brushing loose strands of hair from her eyes. The blue-haired genius raised an eyebrow and proceeded to check her vitals and injuries before Marron had a chance to answer. She supposed that forwardness came from watching Trunks, who was likely as careless on hiding injuries as the friend she left back home.

She spaced out as the scientist and current doctor worked, dark eyes flittering around the sparse room as she took in the fact that she was stuck. Here. In a time where the core of her world was nonexistent. The emptiness of the medical space along with not having any of her friends hanging around to see if she was all right weighed heavier on her as the minutes ticked by. Bulma tapped the teen's chin, and Marron snapped her attention back toward her. "Yes?" Her voice was dry.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "You've been out for almost a day, but I will put you on permanent bedrest if needed." She continued once she tested her focus. "Now, how are you feeling?"

"Strange. But it's a mental thing. Body's sore, but nothing I haven't been through before."

"Right," Bulma replied, relieved. "You are out of place here." At the dubious tone, Marron's eyes widened, which caused the older woman to laugh. "Don't worry. I do believe you. Trust me, working on this time machine forever, it's a relief to hear it worked."

Marron straightened, and her face showed embarrassment as she slid off the bed. "Right. I should thank you. If it hadn't, I wouldn't have a place to exist, seeing my parents never got together." The genius hummed noncommittedly and then stepped forward, plucking a singed thread from Marron's shirt.

"You're welcome. It's a weird and humbling aspect to know the number of lives that simply won't be without this, but I'll take it." A quirk of her lips and Bulma dropped her hand. "Unfortunately, I don't have any clothes that will fit you, and it's not easy to get new ones around here. There's very few shops that stay open in West City; although, there are a couple spots designated for leaving charity, including clothes."

With the words, Marron glanced down at what she wore. Her outfit was a mess. Her tank top had tears in it from the blast, and her beige skirt was rumpled and tattered. She rolled her shoulders back and brushed her hair out of the way. "It can't be helped."

"You can borrow some of Trunks' old clothes. They will still be big on you, but they will do in the meantime."

She scrunched her brows together at imagining wearing some of his old clothes. That would be weird. Especially considering it was not the Trunks she knew. She shrugged it off and walked toward the door. "Thanks… this wasn't one of my better outfits anyway. It'll be nice to wash up as well. Is the bathroom on the first-floor still functional?"

That was the guest bathroom she remembered. Her knowing about it seemed to throw Bulma. The woman grinned a second later and jammed her finger toward the exit. "Seeing as it is the closest to the heater and pipes, yes, it is. Help yourself."

X_X

By the time she washed up, Bulma had come in and dropped off a set of clothes. An oversized T-shirt and jeans. Due to the battered nature of the jeans, Marron assumed Trunks done a fair share of training or fighting in them. Nonetheless, the jeans looked better a bit worn and damaged than her former outfit, and she was not one to deny any assistance in this bizarre situation she was in. Tying her hair up in a bun, she left the bathroom to explore Capsule Corp.

Her observation from yesterday that the place was eerie and deserted were emphasized. There were no workers running about, no shouts or crashes that indicated Saiyans training, and no buzz while walking by the labs that pertained to experiments and product testing. All in all… empty. They kept the main halls heated, while parts of the outer areas were tattered. It did not matter where she went Marron felt a chill seep into her. She hugged herself as she peeped in a nearby room. From her time, it was a home theater that housed multiple movie nights and a lot of spilled popcorn. Now, the place was barren with the screen replaced with a large map and the seats taken out replaced with tables with more maps and notes. A strategy room? She wondered with no real desire to find out.

Familiarize yourself with your surroundings to feel comfortable. That was a lesson her dad taught her. Krillin would often get in long-winded and excited lectures to his daughter to explain safety and how he coped with his own harsh experiences. That came from being a police officer and the lecturing due to talking with Gohan. She and Pan had to find a way to prank them once she was home.

Her fingers tightened on her arms, and she continued walking. Contrary to her father's advice, she felt alienated seeing the differences.

There was no sign of Trunks as she wandered. With her basics to sense ki, she could tell that the teen was not in the compound. He was probably out trying to find and fight the androids. That thought did not soothe her. A part of her reasoned that this was not the same family she had, but her stomach clenched at the thought of her friend and them fighting.

She eventually found Bulma in a spare lab that went unused in her time. In the center of the room was what Marron could surmise was the unfinished time machine. The older woman wiped grease off her face. "Refreshed?"

Marron nodded and approached as Bulma returned her attention back to her work. "Knowing that this will work in the future somehow makes getting it done easier and more daunting all at once." The blonde cracked a smile. Sitting on a crate, she let her work. She was happy to have activity around her – nothing close to the crazy she was accustomed to at Capsule Corp – but Bulma remained a reassuring presence regardless.

"I- I have a question." Marron was clueless on her nerves kicking in. She could make this question not sound awkward. She could. She cleared her throat when Bulma directed her attention to her. "Well, has anyone tried to find out what the deal with the androids is? Why they are doing this?"

Nothing about Bulma's response appeared accusatory, so Marron relaxed her shoulders and kicked her legs out. The fact that this set of events was so devasting to her did not show on her expression.

"Not really. What we found out was minimal, if that. We figured out by context clues early on, partly from the Red Ribbon insignia on their clothing, that they came from the Red Ribbon Army. Goku knew one of the earlier model androids as a child from Frappe, but most signs here show that it's Doctor Gero that worked on them."

Marron's face twitched at the mention of the scientist. When she got older, she asked her mother about her past. Eighteen was half in the mind to avoid the topic with her daughter for another few years – possibly forever – but she convinced her. The younger blonde wished nothing but hell on the evil scientist, which he probably was now. She rubbed the back of her palm and faced the opposite direction to avoid giving away her distaste.

She asked Seventeen once if he regretted anything in his criminal background, both before and after Gero. Her uncle laughed at her brashness, and also the fact that one thing he definitely did not regret was killing him.

"No one had seen Gero, or separate resurgences from the Red Ribbon Army, so it's assumed they killed him." Bulma continued, confirming her thoughts. Marron pressed her lips together. "I've debated to tell Trunks once he goes back if it would be better to stop Gero before he activates them and avoid the whole thing."

The color drained from Marron's face. She was unable to stop herself before she shouted "Please don't!" The thought of her mother and uncle staying in stasis without the chance to be decent people, or that she may not exist in one timeline because of it, made her heart race. Then adding the possibility of Cell in that equation. She shivered. An amused Bulma glanced over her shoulder while she studied a set of blueprints.

"Okay, okay."

"I mean," Marron would bring up her personal stakes, but that seemed shallow with these circumstances. "Do you really think your husband or Goku would stand to take the easy way out?" In her rush to cover her tracks, Marron forgot the bit of information that Bulma and Vegeta married after Cell, so this Bulma would be thrown off by the term. A strange thought for her, the two were a – odd – perfect couple, Marron was so used to seeing them together.

Indeed, the CC heiress was quiet for a moment, staring down at the blueprints like she wasn't really seeing them. A moment later, she brushed it off and focused on her work. "You're right. Those Saiyans are incredibly thick-skulled."

Marron slumped her shoulders. Sometime during her trip it will probably come out that she was related to the two that caused hell in this time, yet she rather not test her luck with that information yet. People here – Trunks at least – seemed to run partially on paranoia.

X_X

The next day continued without much fuss on her end. She couldn't say the same for Trunks. Although she acknowledged that he was paranoid about everything, she couldn't deny what he did was frustrating. While it never bothered her to be unable to sense her mother's or uncle's ki, Marron could understand Trunks' frustration on trying to hunt someone down that was near impossible to find. The best way to, Bulma informed her, was listening to reports of any attacks or disasters.

Thus, when Trunks returned later in the afternoon, she made no quips or teasing comments about how frazzled he was. She was not used to the fact her friend was different person; that did not stop her from realizing when he was having a bad day. Marron decided to leave him alone and instead settled in one of the abandoned rooms.

There was a gaping hole in the wall, but overall it had not changed. In her memory, and in this room, a large dining table sat near the center. There was no minifridge in this version, and the stack of knickknacks on the table were fewer in number. If she was honest, it was only the table that was the same but that was enough to bring her comfort and sit down next to it.

The silence troubled her. Marron believed she could ignore it, but Capsule Corp was always filled with life. This room would be used in the smaller parties Bulma hosted when only a handful of her friends came by. It was a meeting place for the kids as the secondary dining room was out of the way. A good place to chill without adult supervision.

She heard the snap of fingers in front of her and she blinked rapidly. Trunks stood there with a plate of food, embarrassed at interrupting her thoughts. That was better than being pushed over or drawn on, she supposed. The blonde forced a smile and accepted the plate. "Thanks."

"Is something wrong?"

Marron hugged herself before resting her elbows on the counter. "I… uh, homesick." She marveled at her own inherited awkwardness. From either of her parents, the trait did not show itself while around friends: be it with Goten's easy-going nature, or Trunks ability to smooth-talk basically anything. She sighed. "It's just so quiet here. It throws me for a loop more than the destruction does."

She picked at her food, rolling aside the meatball that her dad loved but she herself hated. At least Bulma tried with the information she had. Marron ate the rest silently, staring at Trunks as he leaned on the table. Shoulders squared and his right-hand twitching. He did have the same anxious tells. That was useful to file away so she could start getting along with this version of her friend.

"Uh, can you tell me about it? How life is…" He trailed off.

"Better?" she offered. He glared before humming in affirmation.

"Different."

There was the same face she saw the first night here. One that seemed troubled at the very idea of being hopeful. She pitied him and pushed the food around her plate once more.

"Sure." She stuffed a bite in her mouth so she could think of what to say. When she swallowed, she shook the scattered thoughts on the bizarre emptiness away and imagined the large compound back to the liveliness she remembered. "For starters, I know your dad."

The hopefulness on Trunks' face seemed to triple with that statement alone. Marron stifled her laugh. "I'll stop you right there. Don't get your hopes up, especially when you travel to the past. The guy's an asshole." Trunks blinked owlishly, and she wondered what exactly Bulma had told him about his father.

"He's cool despite that. He spends most of his time training, but he'll break for family time if Bulma forces him into it." She thought of the proud Saiyan Prince, thinking of the constant sound in the background while she was around; the hum of the gravity chamber if she was close enough, or the crashes of something breaking. If Goku was here to visit and train then screaming from Vegeta or Bulma so the whole block didn't get destroyed. "You are an expert of wheedling a trip to the ice cream parlor. I'd say an 80% success rate, but since you've started to get a steady allowance it's probably down to 60%"

Marron grinned at his expression. Trunks seemed taken aback. If she heard stories or knew Vegeta back then, she wouldn't believe them either. She noted that Trunks brought his own plate and sat down next to her. Might as well go on then. "Bulla – that's your sister, by the way – has a success rate of a 100%. I don't see that going down anytime soon. She's her daddy's princess through and through."

This time she laughed outright as Trunks choked. She leaned over and pounded him on the back. "I- um, what?"

"Yeah, the you I know is an older brother. Since you're the oldest out of all of us, I think you already grew into the role beforehand." Not necessarily true. Maybe to being the biggest bad influence. She won't throw her friend under the bus to another version of himself, though. The blonde walked in on him once babysitting one-year-old Bulla while watching a scary movie when his parents worked/trained late. That and one of his favorite pastimes was watching a prank war from toddler Pan and Goten unfold after he instigated it. It was an honest surprise that the girls so far appeared levelheaded. Marron did her best to teach them silent payback that she mastered years of growing up around the boys.

Trunks dunked his roll into the sauce, and Marron guessed he was out of it if he didn't notice that it was the hot sauce. The information probably overwhelmed him, but he was curious, and so she kept going. "You and Goten are almost as likely to break something as Vegeta and Goku." She rested her cheek on her hand and took a small bite of food. "It's so weird that Goten isn't here. I mean, I know that Goku died early in this timeline, and Goten wasn't born. You two are inseparable and _impossible_ to work with."

The first couple years, until she was a toddler, the two forsaken her company. It already took Trunks a fair bit to get used to Goten when the younger boy was introduced. However, the three of them were watched over frequently, and Marron soon proved herself to be clever enough to keep up with them even with their shared Saiyan heritage made keeping up physically impossible. She started make progress on being taken seriously when Buu happened, and the two became more in sync than ever.

She thought her chances were lost, which had not upset her. She was to start school the next year and could make friends there. That was until the two of them decided to take her out on a "date" to prove that they were grown ups now and to show off. She had not realized their ploy at the time, yet it was a blast to tease them about it once she did a few years later.

"_That was fun."_

"_Too much money to count damage."_

"_You're five, you can't count that high anyway."_

"_Your fault."_

"_I can pay for it."_

(It remained a wonder on how Trunks threatened to buy out the whole sweet shop, Goten somehow wheedled his way of purchasing a whole cake without charge, and Gotenks nearly destroyed the entire property. Marron swore she blinked and turned away for a second while the two made that decision.

She was too dumbfounded and caught up in giggles that she failed to give Videl or Gohan a proper recount once they came to survey the damage.)

"_Mom's going to kill us."_

Marron rubbed her cheeks and sighed. Oh, she hoped that back home the two hadn't reacted too badly. They were good on their feet. She counted herself as a voice of reason for them not be that extreme all the time. Damn, she missed them. Realizing she spaced out, she wiped her eyes as discreetly as possible and returned her attention to Trunks. "Anyway, with that, the girls and I have had bets on which would make a bigger mess on a given week, the fathers or sons." The older boy was affronted. The idea of causing his already shambled home more damage would give him a headache.

"I wouldn't worry about it." She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. "I'm overexaggerating. Bulma would have thrown you all out and make Vegeta sleep on the couch if you were that crazy."

She found herself on a roll. Marron clenched her fists and glanced around the room. The hole in the wall was glaring, yet she could imagine one of her Saiyan friends peeking from the other side with a sheepish smile. Severe property damage may be rare at Capsule Corp; it still happened.

"Bulla and Pan – that's Gohan's daughter – would use this room the most. It's usually used for smaller parties, you see, and everyone else gravitates toward the larger rooms. They would either do primarily warmups here or else play house and force you into it." Her voice raised in pitch and speed slightly as she went on; she attempted to ignore it. "I would join them on an occasion. We would watch movies or plan outings in town. The two will ask me about the boys' secrets, and knowing the two of you so well, I would tell them if I think I could benefit from the blackmail material." That was one brutal tactic that her mother taught her.

The best rewards she received from those efforts were Pan's soft hand pressing chocolate from her parents' stash into hers, so discreetly that when she looked she was gone, and Bulla taking her out to buy the dress she admired last (how the four-year-old stole her mother's credit card and escaped her father's overprotective eyes, she had no clue).

The tears that she refused to acknowledge were there trickled down her face. Nevertheless, she remained steadfast in pretending they didn't exist. Her hands shook and she returned to her food. Homesickness wasn't supposed to be this bad. Because she would make it back; she had to. She cleared her throat to finish off.

"Your mom wouldn't be doing much different than she is now. She'll be in her lab most of the day, or else in staff meetings for the company, grander trips out on the town that us girls can't have by ourselves, and reserving time for family dinner nights."

"Tuesday, right?" Trunks' voice was quiet as he poked at his food. "She says that was most often Dad will take off and spend time with us. That hadn't changed since… after. Though we eat together most nights anyway."

Marron nodded. "That's right." She grabbed a napkin and wiped her face, quickly composing herself. "No one can drag any of you guys away that night. Though it's not uncommon for someone to crash and join in. Mom would bring us over when she can tell Dad or me are craving some of Grandma Briefs' cooking."

An awkward heaviness blanketed the room. The teenagers finished their food in silence, and Marron prayed a thank you that Trunks' decided not to ask who her mother was.

X_X

The next day came around, and the pit in her stomach that defined her uneasiness started to subside. Not gone, but turned into a numb reminder. Marron strolled down the street, her hand over the pocket of one of Trunks old jeans. Bulma had given her some money and told her about a department store that was usually open and sold clothes. Maybe it was how the streets were almost dead silent and eerie, but Marron had a wave of protectives come over her with the cash.

She was taught how to fend for herself by more people than she could count. That and she could count on one of her admittedly stronger friends to help her out. Not that it would be a problem. The blonde could fight off any average mugger without a big hassle. The problem was there were two that she knew she couldn't beat in this time, and they happened to be two that helped defend her in the past.

Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, exposing the back of her neck and keeping her cool. She licked her lips and surveyed the area. There were a couple people out of about, mainly in hearing distance, but that was it. The cosmopolitan city was dead. Sweat formed with the compounded help of her nerves and she wiped the perspiration away.

Trunks and Bulma both offered to come with her, and Marron denied. There was a chance that with them she would feel more at ease. However, she could only stare at the different shadow of the people she knew for so long. Besides new clothes, what she needed was a breather.

The sun shone with little obstructing its power; the taller buildings she was used to giving shade were knocked down. The building she was heading to was a two-story building, and – if she recalled the address correctly – had a warehouse at the location in her time.

Indeed, the building she came across looked like it could be a warehouse, a heavily remodeled one. It was blocky with several windows carved into the ramshackle walls. It appeared to be damaged multiple times and repaired with either wood, metal or brick. The main doors were huge and currently open with a large sign proclaiming such next to the entrance. To hide its misshapen appearance, the surfaces were colored a myriad of bright colors. It was almost as if it defied the gloomy atmosphere that dominated the surroundings.

The idea cheered her up as her silent-but-not-quite footsteps entered the building. The place appeared deserted; she wasn't worried. Bulma told her that only a single person or two would be working at a time, and don't expect it to be busy. She took out the borrowed wallet and pulled out a note. _Far right side for clothes._ She slipped the paper back inside and headed in that direction.

The clothes were simplistic and monochrome with a couple woven in finer fabrics. The utilitarian mode of survival had taken even West City's hip fashion sense to the ground. Like the walls outside, several of those singular colors were bright. Her hand went down a red shirt that would reach her thighs if she put it on. It didn't look like it would be big on her despite that, so she placed it in her arms and kept browsing.

She collected at least three tops, a pair of leggings, a couple pairs of pants, and a dress when she noticed something was off. Yes, Bulma said it wouldn't be busy. However, the owners would notice if a person came in and will come by to offer assistance or else shoo away shoplifters. No one had come by. Marron bit her lip and pushed the thought aside. She would go to the counter to pay anyway. Not that big of a deal. The place was huge.

After her first trip to the dressing rooms out back, she was at the patterned shirts with the clothes she decided to keep. That was when she heard noise at the front of the store. It took her three seconds to have any sort of alarm bells go off in her head since Marron was so used to hearing the voice.

"…I said I wanted new clothes."

"You almost never keep them. What's the point?"

She froze, her hand hovering over a star-patterned shirt, at the familiarity of it. Before she could fully register the implications, her feet carried her behind one of the racks where she clutched the clothes to her chest.

Eighteen browsed the selections a few aisles away as she talked to her brother. "Whatever, I'm happy the owner kept the doors open and cleared out like he said he would. I don't want to deal with petty, scared pleas about having to pay."

Marron fumbled with the outfits in her arms and tried to keep her breathing steady. She figured it was not a complete impossibility to run into her mother and uncle while she was here. The painful thing though… they did not really sound any different. Sweat prickled down her neck, and her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Nonetheless, this pair of her family still killed her dad and friends, left the world like this. But they didn't sound different!

The blonde could imagine their banter here as she did whenever Seventeen had time to visit. Mom wouldn't make such blatant comments on stealing, not without disapproving looks from her dad, but the tone and nonchalance were the same she grew up with. Their words faded from her mind, and Marron clapped her mouth shut and squeezed her eyes closed.

This was a bit pathetic, she thought. Mom would think so. Eighteen acknowledged and accepted the path she could have went down, but she let everyone close to her, including her daughter, know that it was a different her. Someone not to lose sleep over.

These were facts. Facts that should stop her from the urge to step out from her hiding spot and see that everything was fine. Because her mom was a fantastic woman that Marron loved and adored her entire life.

She breathed lowly and peeked out from behind the rack. The teenager was lucky that neither of them could sense power levels and didn't seem to care for personal awareness or else they would have realized she was here. Marron lowered herself to the floor and picked up the bag she collected near the dressing rooms, placing the clothes inside.

This was all right. She could take her leave without either seeing her. It wouldn't even be the thought of being blasted to death that scared her. Rather it would be the shock of the full realization that they weren't her family. 'Stop being so dramatic and get work done.' That's what her Eighteen would say. Her mother told that to everyone, her father most often. The memory of that no bullshit attitude fueled her, and she took a couple steps away.

As long as she was quiet and stayed out of their line of sight, she should be fine. That echoed in her mind as she walked toward the exit. Except, she did not want to be a thief, especially if the owner expected to be robbed by a couple rebellious androids. A trip, a riskier one, to the front desk can rectify that and she'll leave some money on the counter.

The next minute was the tensest Marron had in recent memory. She wished Trunks was here with her. Not the one she left behind at Capsule Corp; he would have jumped into a fight when the blonde knew she could sneak out of this without bloodshed. No, the Trunks she knew loved to sneak around and get the best of Eighteen. It had been years, but she swore him and Goten were still bitter about being exposed in the World Martial Arts tournament. Ever since they seemed happy to get the best out of her. Marron was content to watch and see them fail (and succeed on occasion).

The thoughts stilled her nerves and wired her focus to reach the checkout counter. She fumbled with the money Bulma gave her, her hands shaking with adrenaline. From what her ears picked up, the mock-versions of her mother and uncle were where she left them, oblivious. She threw the strap of the shopping bag over her shoulder and bolted toward the exit. That task may be done, but she found it difficult to breathe or concentrate in this vast store now.

Seventeen turned toward the door at the noise, brows raised as he saw a flash of blonde hair and a young face heading toward the exit of the store. "Leave it," his sister said before he could comment. "If someone else is smart enough to shoplift and take what they can while no one is here without bothering us I don't see the point."

He rolled his eyes. "You won't look good in that dress, by the way."

"Shut up."

Marron dropped the bag with a huff, safely around the corner. She placed her hands on her knees, her hair loose from her ponytail and falling in her face. "That was aggravating." She muttered. Out of immediate danger, she could laugh at the situation. That was one thing her life taught her. She pulled her hair back and gathered her things. "I better head back. And that will mean back home, sooner or later."

* * *

**A/N**: I'm happy I got this up. A little slow chapter, but now I have most of the groundwork setup for the rest of the story. Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I wanted this to be up sooner than a month, but that was not to be. A big thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

The coming days passed without incident. Marron worried what her continued absence at home would mean, but she learned to not get too worked up. Otherwise, she may never have a moment's peace and die of anxiety. She just hoped that Bulma would have figured it out, and out of the two of them, one version of the genius will find a solution.

She had not told anyone about running into Seventeen or Eighteen while out for clothes. They saw that Marron was frazzled when she returned, but she passed it off as not accustomed to the state West City was in (which was the truth).

Currently, the blonde was helping Bulma in her lab. She did not have the insane level of intelligence, yet her time spent with Bulma or Gohan in the past let her keep up with the basics in order to give assistance. The tedious work of menial errands was a relief and agonizingly boring. This was the second time she helped the older woman work, and they had stayed quiet.

"So, what's your mom like not being a raging psychopath?"

Marron froze at the words, and once she registered them broke out into a coughing fit. She placed a hand over her heart and gaped at Bulma with wide eyes. "What?"

The woman nodded. "Yeah, I'm curious." Hearing the teen's continued silence, she continued. "You do know who I fell in love with, and who Trunks' father is, right? It doesn't bother me."

Marron steadied her hands and placed them on the table. She guessed Bulma took that specific opening when she did not have any breakable vials in her hand. The blonde knew she would have dropped them.

"Oh, uh… how?"

"You have similar hair, and for two people who shouldn't be a problem anymore in your time, you avoid the android topic like a plague."

She chuckled and fiddled with the braid Bulma helped her with earlier. "Mm. Well, she's pretty chill. Still pretty brutal but her and Dad balance each other out. She's happy to have a peaceful life and isn't as into fighting anymore as Uncle Seventeen or the rest of the guys." Marron returned to organizing the supplies. Even though it was a relief to no longer withhold that information, she kept her eyes steadfast on the table. "She did break both Vegeta's arms, so you'll have to forgive her for that."

Bulma hummed. "Why does it sound like he deserved it?"

Marron grabbed a cloth to wipe down the tools in front of her, with a brief glance to where Bulma stood. "He did. That's what she – and dad, too – say about it. They weren't looking for a fight at the time, only to find Goku." It had been years, and Marron was confident that she knew the story the best out of all her friends. Her parents wouldn't let it drop, although Vegeta himself avoided the mention on principle. "But Vegeta…"

"Doesn't like to be ignored." Bulma snorted over her blueprints. "That sounds like him. If he was prepping for a few years for a fight and then learning that Goku could steal it out from under him then he will be pissed."

She smiled as she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Dad says he may have been a goner already at that point."

Bulma threw her head back and laughed. "I got with the guy who, the first time I saw him, he was threatening our lives over a dragon ball bigger than my head. I have no room to judge."

The tension in along her shoulders and spine faded, and Marron sighed. It was depressing to think that her mother could be so… different. That was the best word her mind could think up, despite growing up around the sharp-tongued woman.

"With Vegeta's idiocy aside, I can see them not wanting to talk about it, but do you have any idea why they would have turned out on the right side of the law? That isn't a possibility Trunks and I considered with this time-travel plan."

She shrugged. "Not really. There was another android that they decided to activate, why in my time I don't know, but he was peaceful besides wanting Goku's head on a silver platter." Marron remembered overhearing Krillin and Gohan talking about it when visiting Pan once. Gohan froze up at the mention of Sixteen, and the two seemed content to drop the subject once that reminiscing was done. "His presence calmed Mom and Uncle, and with him there, they were content to put all their destructive focus on Goku and not indiscriminately on the whole planet."

Her motions stilled, and Marron eyes unfocused on the equipment in front of her. Then there was Cell. She was aware that for Cell to get in the past in the first place, he had to have killed a version of this Trunks to get the time machine. They deserved the warning so the one that was out fighting her family right now would have a chance. Nonetheless, her mind screeched to a halt on attempting to even broach the subject.

"I wonder if the past was allowed peace after all that hard work was put in." Bulma mused her thoughts out loud. The blonde's hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she rubbed the goosebumps on her arms thinking about Buu. She had the dubious honor of being one of the youngest in their group to die at one point. Yay. Her dad said it was okay to stress out over it; that dying was not something to get over.

Bulma must have seen her reaction because she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "I thought so."

Marron stared at the older woman, a strained smile on her face. "I blame the Saiyans. They're trouble magnets."

X_X

Trunks bent over the paper in front of him as he tapped his chin with a pen. School was not a factor with the state of the world right now. His mother, being the smartest woman in any room, did not appreciate the fact and wished for her son to keep up with basic studies. She said working on a scientific or mathematic problem was a process to cool down over. Again, his mother was a genius. Trunks did not have the same success to chill out over books, but he did it anyway. At least, when he helped with the time machine or separate projects Bulma worked on he could be competent on what was going on.

Today, though, it was harder to concentrate than usual. He kept on thinking about Marron coming from a timeline where he succeeded. That he gave his family (and himself) a better chance at life. The whole concept threw him for a loop. What was he supposed to do with that knowledge of success? Would it be easier, or will he mess up to spite it?

He scribbled a couple numbers on the page, their value not sinking in. Bulma spoke about variables all the time when she taught her son. A problem on paper, it was good to know all the variables that apply to an equation to ensure it was correct. In real life? Trunks thought that leaving some variables unknown would keep the pressure off and not suffocate him.

"You okay?" A pencil pressed into his cheeks, and he turned his head to see Marron standing there. After she had a shopping trip that was obviously more stressful than she was willing to admit, the girl had gone out once more and picked up additional clothes. He had no clue about fashion, but she seemed more comfortable in the blue dress than his old clothes. Her continued acclimation to this – agreeably – hell environment made him relax in turn. Quite frankly, he had no idea how to treat her on arrival here.

"Uh, yeah."

The blonde snorted and covered her mouth. "No matter the time, you are a horrible liar. I think it comes from having parents that are always so blunt even in spite."

Trunks could have made a comment about how he didn't know his father, but he knew not to make it awkward. "What do you need?" He asked.

Shrugging her shoulders, Marron placed the pencil down next to him. "You seem bored. Or stressed. I can't tell." She frowned as she leaned on the table.

"I guess I am stressed. I do have a problematic life." She grinned at his sarcasm and tugged on his arm.

"Come on, let's go. You can show me around, stressed boy, and not get caught up in your head."

He pondered what it must be like where a trip in the desolated cities were considered fun and not an immediate danger of getting caught up in an android attack. Most people did not dare go outside unless it was for a clear necessity. Food, mainly. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"

"Mm. Bulma said we should get food," speaking of the necessity, "And I do have a morbid curiosity on what the rest of the city is like compared to when I'm from."

"_Why?_" Trunks could understand his own dabbling thoughts of getting worked up on a happier timeline. It made no sense to want to know of a worst-case scenario one.

Marron pressed her lips together, unsure of her own reasoning. She looked away, "Coping? I think I get it from my dad, I don't know."

He did not argue. Fresh air will be good. If nothing went wrong, well, he probably jinxed it. His life could be like that; he could not get hung up on what could be these days.

X_X

West City was not a pleasant place. It was gloomy or quiet, or else something was wrong. Trunks glanced at Marron and guessed that she had come to similar conclusions. She seemed out of it. He couldn't get it, and he was a tad defensive, because it was his hometown.

Marron poked his arm; she still had that pencil. The blonde waved to the collapsed buildings around them. "There must be _a_ place you like to go to relax, away from your mom. Go on, tell me. It's not like I will be here forever to spill your secret."

Shaking his head, he shrugged the questions off. "It's not that I'm hiding anything. I really don't have a place." She glared at the back of his head. He continued. "What I like is to move around, not stay in one spot. See how people are coping."

She bit her lip. "As advice I gained, coping only does so much. You should try living."

"Who told you that?" He may not be that active besides keeping this world together, but he was infinitely curious.

"My dad. Mom… too. A lot of people, does it matter? What will you do once the androids are defeated? There has to be something. That. You. Like. To. Do." She accentuated each word with a poke from the pencil. He had an odd urge to snap it, not out of anger, but a subtle movement to get it out of his personal space.

"Um…" He cast his gaze aside. She let out a strangled cry of frustration.

"Okay, I'm going to try. You're going to too, and hopefully you can cheer up as this is annoying." She stored the annoying pointy utensil in her pocket and grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

They arrived at an open space. It was a mere deserted street, with a large crack down the middle of what was once a highway. No survivors came around here, it was too open. The surrounding buildings were a toppled mess of wood and stone, hardly a couple meters high at the highest point of the remaining walls. He thought Marron was insane.

She may have agreed with him. Doubt etched her features as she took in the uneven pavement. "What was it again? He said… this should work." Confusion marred his features.

After a couple more seconds of rambling incoherently, she looked up. "Okay, I think I have it." She bent down to pick up a couple rocks. The older teen could only stand in stunned silence as she hummed at him and then threw the rock at his face. He may have squeaked in response.

The blond clung to her sides, with fits of giggles escaping her mouth. Trunks glared, releasing the grip on the hilt of his sword. "What was that for?"

"You are way too uptight. I'm sorry; I'll get serious now." She focused on another rock, and slowly a faint glimmer of ki surrounded the stone. Her brow furrowed in heavy concentration. "I'm guessing you don't have hoverboards here?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Although he remained in a defensive pose, his tone was incredulous.

"This is a trick that Gohan taught us." Without conscious thought, Trunks flinched at his old mentor's name. With a simple sympathetic smile, Marron decided not to comment. "Well, Pan, when she wanted to eat rocks as a toddler this is what he distracted her with instead. It was a way to make her focus." The round slab of earth in her hand steadily rose, a couple specks of dirt dropping, blanketed by a layer of ki.

Trunks stepped forward, leaning down to get a better look. It was real, yet he had never seen a trick like it before. He placed his hand underneath the hovering rock. With a relief, she dissipated her energy, and the rock dropped on his hand. "Gohan came up with this?" He remembered Gohan's stern eyes or slight grin and his heart ached. He missed his old mentor and friend.

"Uh huh. He likes to study ki beyond its destructive properties and went to study how to move objects and work with physics. He also asked B- uh, Dende, our guardian on earth, about healing." She glanced to the side, a pink tinge in her cheeks. He opened his mouth to ask a question – how was this necessarily to do with having fun – when she barged ahead. "So, there you have it. You can try it now."

"…How? What does this have to do with hoverboards?" A part of him said to drop it, and he couldn't see much of a point. Yet his bafflement and curiosity drove him to see what else was up here.

She waved her hand at the bigger chunks of rubble before wiping sweat off her brow. "You use it on bigger pieces, jump on, and have fun with that."

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes on the rubble. "Isn't flying easier?"

"Yes, and that's what you told Goten. It requires a different form of concentration though, and can be fun once you get the hang of it."

Flying was one of the most freeing actions Trunks had. There was little beyond that could ease his pressure of constant headaches. With flying, just flying, he did not have to worry about saving anybody, or fighting and focusing ki elsewhere. This sounded like a hassle that was not worth it.

"I _haven't_ gotten the hang of it. I can't help you beyond that."

He snorted, "You're great at showing people how to have fun." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she took the last rock she had and held her palm up. "What you need to do is make sure your ki surrounds it but does not apply enough force to crumble the stone, or whatever it is you have, to dust. Make an orb around it, giving the least amount of wiggle room you can muster. A centimeter or so. Keep the energy down so when you move it, you don't end up crushing it then. If you want room for your feet, open up the orb and keep it below and on the sides only. Then you fly."

The stone rock hovered as she spoke and as she went on, it inched along until it stopped a couple feet to the left. She sighed at the precision exertion and let it fall to the street.

Trunks thought the best he could do was try. He had hard trouble finding enjoyment out of stuff, yet with anyone trying so hard to make fun out of a menial exercise, he had to honor that.

Focusing on a piece of rubble, he raised his hand. At first, a couple chunks broke off as he pushed a ki orb to cover it. It rattled on the ground. He breathed out slowly, and then raised his hand to focus his control. The rubble raised with it. He grinned.

"See? You weren't bad at explaining it."

"Good job." She bit her lip. "I figured that you would understand that explanation. You were the one to explain it to me. Your mind can't be that different here." She mumbled to herself and then found a place to sit down. "You can continue that if you want, or whatever suites your fancy, but I am going to watch here to see you lighten up and have fun."

X_X

Marron watched the serious teen in front of her try to have fun. If she was truthful, she had no idea what attached her to the trick Gohan taught them. A split second after mentioning the half-Saiyan, she almost regretted it entirely. Gohan's death was clear in Trunks' grief, and she did not want to poke it. But it was good. She told herself that; it was good. The least she could do was pass on happy memories.

Trunks kept at it for about ten minutes. In that time, she guessed she had a more fun time laughing at his frustration. This version of her friend did not deserve to be laughed at, but she had a lifetime of memories being annoyed and getting even with Trunks to not. Shortly before he stopped, Marron started to chuck rocks and debris at him. Exercise, then.

Once Trunks dropped the makeshift hoverboards (after a near faceplant trying to dodge), and went to normal flying, the force of her throws did not hold enough power to be legitimate exercise for the half-Saiyan. She went all out anyway and the minutes ticked by. Marron thought that maybe Trunks was enjoying himself.

The blonde smirked and waved her finger at him. "Hey, hotshot, try slicing them with your sword. This feels like its too easy for you." A beat's pause, and Trunks stared down at her. He shrugged and drew out his sword.

"Fine, fine."

"And no flying too high! I need to keep close to my ammo and don't want to have to follow after you." He smiled and lowered until he was five feet off the ground. "Want me to keep score?"

"What?"

"I'm going to keep score." Her mother taught her that, and so did Videl. It made keeping up with her crazy strength friends daunting and rewarding – when she could get the drop on them.

"Okay," he sounded bemused. Marron took that as enough and chucked rocks in his general direction. She started easy, not that her speed was a problem for him. When he was in rhythm, she tossed them farther apart from each other. If she said so herself, she kept him on his toes on which way a stone or piece of rubble will be go. That, and the important thing, Trunks kept smiling, which was a plus for the brooding teenager.

Several minutes passed until her older companion landed and checked the sharpness of his blade. Marron's lips rose as she approached him. "200 points. Not bad. Managed a few combos too."

His brows furrowed together, and he glanced at her. "You threw 50 pieces." Clicking her tongue, the blonde nodded in acknowledgement before brushing dust off her hands.

"Yup. And since I mentioned combos, it's not a one-to-one point system. Take the compliment." She brushed hair out of her eyes as they headed to pick up food and then return to Capsule Corp. "Did you have fun?" Marron kept her voice steady, yet there was a bit of pride on the line if she was able to accomplish her goal or not.

"I suppose. Is this one of the things you do for fun in your time?" His curiosity did not sound discouraged by the very idea of recreational activities, causing her to grin wider.

"One of them. There's, um, more opportunities. There's exploring in the woods, walking pets, reading a good book, video games, the list is endless."

He hummed. "Mom said her parents were big on keeping pets."

Marron recalled the Briefs' menagerie and latched on the topic of discussion to share stories she experienced with the collection of animals for the rest of trip around town.

X_X

Over the next few days, she worked on taking Trunks out to experience fun when he had the chance. She had little better to do, with any entertainment she enjoyed in her time either absent or feeling empty in partaking in. Spending time with the eventual time traveler and teaching him how to be a teenager for once was better than hanging over Bulma's shoulder 24/7 hoping for news on when she can return.

Sometimes, they kept to the Capsule Corp compound. Marron was surprised with a game of hopscotch that the trained fighter did not have the best balance. Yes, she giggled at his clumsy but successful attempts.

If she was an optimistic person, like Goten or the Son family in general, or had better faith that things weren't messed up then she could imagine that this world was not that different or on the edge of destruction every day. She was not. Marron took note every time Trunks was not available because he was fighting _her family_, or Bulma's worried face when hunched over blueprints and triple-checked her work on time-distorting devices.

Luck was on her side after the initial possible encounter, she was not out-and-about when her mom and uncle were on the active attack. That luck, as her father's unhelpful voice told her in her memories, 'gotta run out eventually.'

"I hate you, Dad." She muttered under her breath as a building collapsed in the background. She flinched, and thought, maybe it was abandoned in the first place. Maybe.

Trunks did not hear her ramblings. Instead, he already focused in the direction of the chaos breaking out. "You should head back. This – shouldn't – take too long."

She wished her friend was better at fake optimism. Had she taught nothing? Marron bobbed her head and stepped away as Trunks disappeared with a burst of ki.

Her feet continued to tread in the right direction, toward Capsule Corp, until they slowed to a halt. She willed her body to retreat as a sensible person would. That attempt ended in failure. Her thoughts were stuck on one of her closest friends, different but still present, fought her family. They weren't the same; she knew that. Her heart continued to race at idea, and without realizing what caused her to exactly, she turned around and started to sneak closer.

Her shoes became increasingly worn out over her stay here. Grit would get in between the soles of her feet, and right now she felt every piece of gravel imprint into her foot. An additional sign to hightail it in the opposite direction, which she ignored.

There had to be something there that she could cling onto for definite proof on… on what exactly? That her maternal family were killers? That Trunks, despite being a reserved and self-sacrificing idiot of the friend she knew, could take care of himself? Those two things she was confident in by just being in this time. What was it? Walking where a crumbled wall could crush her five feet away? That was helpful.

Clutching her heart, she lowered to the ground to collect her bearings. Back to Capsule Corp? Nope. Catching her breath resolved her that she could do this. The androids couldn't sense energy, and Trunks was zeroed-in and tunneled vision on fighting them. Marron could make her way over to reassure herself that Trunks was fine and then leave.

She inched closer, and with her slow, careful, pace by the time she reached her destination the fight would be over. That was all right since she had little desire to get caught in the middle of it anyway. Trunks may even beat her to safety if that was the case. Nonetheless, she ambled down the city blocks. From the corner of her eye, she spotted people running in the opposite direction as sane ones did. A snort transformed into a cough as it escaped her throat. Her legs were shaking, aided in part from the ground trembling.

A stray energy ball blasted above her head. Marron had to dive out of the way, with her mind getting doubtful when she crashed into the ground. It was too late though. As everyone else told the kids in their group, the stubbornness already won out. She covered her head as a couple more stray rocks from the explosion rained down. Marron wondered who caused it. Probably Seventeen or Eighteen, since she knew Trunks made a conscious effort not to destroy property and possibly lives.

'Great, if I get a concussion from my family, forget about not telling anybody about it when I get home, I will never live it down.'

She brought her knees under her and rose to her feet. A sense of detachment hung over her as she finished closing the gap. Trunks will probably yell at her for doing this. And- well, if her other friends were here, they will likely do the same. Being the most fragile (read: human) she shouldn't have tuned their concerns out on force of habit. Currently, a timeline away, she brushed them aside.

She leaned against a collapsed wall, one of many which blended into the next in this city. Marron was confident she was close, and with the sounds of battle dying down, she could do her assessment of the scene or whatever she wanted from this and retreat. Hair covered her face, and she took a couple seconds to catch her breath. Her detached brain reached out to connect to whichever thread of normalcy and out of danger thoughts she could.

"_Want a drink?" she glanced up, after living through her first day of middle school, to see Goten offering her a smoothie. Trunks remained by the counter paying for everything. _

_The three agreed to meet up after school to continue their tradition of self-indulgence when surviving the first day. Well, second week for Trunks living on West City's school schedule, but he dragged them out last week._

_She laughed. "Oh, are you actually offering? I didn't come out just to see you two eat this place out of business?" She snatched the glass from out of his hand and took a long sip._

_Goten's grin was wide as he ran a hand through his hair. "If you said no that would be gone in two seconds."_

_She chuckled while Trunks came over and handed a second glass to Goten and her a slice of her favorite cheesecake. "I'm not paying for another one, so if you need more get it yourself." He told his best friend. (Last year, regardless of having his own credit card, Bulma found out about him spending over a hundred dollars on their outing. Mainly because Bulla outed him for not getting her anything.)_

"Yo, sis."

The voice shocked her out of her thoughts, and her head jerked up in a mixture of fear and the dumbfounded realization that luck really can run out. Seventeen jumped over the what was left of the wall and landed gracefully a couple yards away.

It took a second for him to recognize she was not Eighteen, and Marron cursed silently for having her mother's fair hair. "Hey, it's you from the store last week."

'Great,' she reasoned, 'they did see me.' The information did not help. It was merely a slide of info provided calmly in her brain so that her nerves would not to go into overdrive.

"What are you doing here?" Her uncle tilted his head to the side. A smile tugged on his lips, and he seemed to be immensely pleased with himself. Yes, her mind continued to reason unhelpfully, he has the same cool blue eyes he shared with her mother. That was not what bothered her. What bothered her was she recognized this tone and attitude. She visited him and saw him talk this way to poachers. Since Seventeen was not the most subtle or friendly type to people who annoyed him, it was like he was ready to play with his prey.

'Lovely, my uncle is going to tease me before blasting me through the stomach or something.' She should talk to her dad when she returned home to see if there was a way to stop annoying thought processes when she was in danger.

Her mouth moved but no sound came out. Seventeen's hand started to glow with ki and Marron forced her mind to stretch to any tidbit of idea that will be useful.

"_Lanius bucephalus_!" She shouted. The blonde had no idea what she was doing, and thus spouted out the first thing that was relevant in knowing her uncle in the moment. He once told her that it was his favorite bird, yet how that deemed useful, her mind screeched to a halt.

"What-?" The android was as confused as she was, lowering his hand in contempt. "Did you poison yourself?"

Autopilot was the decision her whole body could make, and she came to a conclusion for escape. Raising her hands, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Solar Flare!"

The blinding flash of light did its job, and Marron sprinted away prior to registering what happened. She had enough sense not to shove him aside and antagonize him more. Beyond that, the best she could do was run and hope that he didn't follow. Thirty seconds passed. Marron ducked into an alleyway and forced her breathes to come out even. One, two. One, two. Thankful neither of them could sense energy, she steadied herself for a minute before deducing no one chased or could find her.

"Alright, no more searching for trouble. I- learned my lesson." She massaged her sides and stared up into the sky. Goten and Trunks did rub off on her after years of friendship, and this was one of the first times she questioned it. Laughing, the dry itchiness in her throat increased.

All that and she did not even find out if Trunks was okay. Although, she could sense his ki heading in the direction of the CC compound. He would beat her there. Blowing out a gasp of air, she strolled back at a steady pace.

A cry reached her ears, and she perked up. She babysat enough to know when a girl was crying. Rapid turns of her head tried to identity where the sound originated and led to a young girl hiding behind a pile of rubble, clutching her leg. Marron's heart clenched. The girl reminded her of Pan; she was about the same age.

Kneeling down, she smiled as the girl faced her. "There now, I'll help you. Where are your parents?" She studied the gash on her leg. About an inch long, with the awkward angle suggesting the bone was broken. Whichever way the girl cared for it before coming to this spot (if she moved to hide at all) was that the wound stayed clean. Blood stained the concrete, yet the opposite was not true, with no gravel or dust on her leg.

The brunette wiped her tears away and swallowed a couple times before finding her voice. She tugged her skirt down over her injury. "They said if we got separated to meet them at Susan's." Marron remembered a small bakery in West City by that name; she was surprised it was still around. She showed none of that on her expression. "I can help you get there. Is it okay if I carry you?"

She nodded and Marron scooped her up in her arms. She was careful not to prod and worsen the wound, her limited knowledge on first-aid helped her there and no more. She hummed the lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Her pace was slower, and she calmed herself with the steady heartbeat the girl had.

When she arrived at the bakery, she noted the bright sign had fallen down, but otherwise the building was intact and the lights were on. A scream echoed from outside, and who she presumed was the girl's father ran out to face her. The initial stance was on the offensive until Marron reached him and placed the girl in his arms. Her mind moved at the rate of molasses after the rush from earlier, so it took several seconds to guess that the man made the same assumption Seventeen did – that she appeared like her mother.

"I didn't find out what happened, but she should be fine. It doesn't look too serious." Marron forced a smile and brushed a strand of hair out of the girl's eyes. She had closed her eyes and fell asleep.

With an awkward goodbye, she continued to Capsule Corp. Half way there, Trunks found her and, as she guessed, he vented frustrations at her being in danger and activating whatever guilt-complex he had on leaving people behind. She shoved him good-naturedly, a more casual upturn of her lips crossing her face. "I'm fine. You do the same thing – rushing into places and trouble. Don't even deny it, you selfless dork."

Marron was in no mood to talk behind that, and her friend obliged. Once she was in her temporary room in Capsule Corp, she collapsed on the bed and slipped into slumber.

* * *

**A/N**: I didn't know how to order this chapter in the beginning. Then I figured that Bulma wouldn't be so blunt to bring up guessing Eighteen was Marron's mother after the poor girl got caught up in an android attack.

If anyone is wondering, _Lanius bucephalus_, or the bull-headed shrike, is a bird you can find native in Japan. I looked up images of Japanese birds and it came up. It's partly a ginger bird, which is a must, because I wanted a red-tinted bird because of Sixteen. Always imagined that one reason Seventeen got into an environmentalist and animal loving mood was because of the precious ginger android.

Review if you feel so kind. If not, that's okay. I appreciate all the support, silent or shown, either way.


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